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Aden
Walker was in the minority, possibly the only one who actually ran into
the frosty gale; Oshvail wouldn’t say.
The otherworldly deity would only suggest that the majority of those he
had beckoned, even those already surrounded by natural snowfall, would decide
against entering the mystic realm, for human eyes were altogether suspicious of
the unearthly aura.
So far, the Oshvail politely revoked
specific questions, refusing to discuss with Aden its method of choice, or of how much
power it wielded. After all was said and
done, Aden didn’t have a clue as to how many people were employed by the
creature other than himself, or whether any of those potentials were from
Earth, Agmora, or perhaps from other worlds beyond. It was one of those few topics Oshvail
considered taboo, one that could possibly endanger the goal itself. Aden
liked to think he understood. And so Aden ascertained that Oshvail’s
secrecy was necessary, at least for now.
After
much personal debriefing, Aden
understood that to be an Oshvail was to perceive an entirely separate reality,
something impossible for him to achieve under his biased, male, human
cognitions. Aden was satisfied at least as much to agree
with Oshvail’s preferred plan regarding the containment or destruction of the
Granatium, and that such an artifact must be separated from human use by any
means possible.
Now, Aden
stood upon the familiar pearl floor, under the equally enclosed, empty pearl
dome, regaining his stamina. It was a
normal occurrence for a portion of the pearl dome to become translucent, revealing
one of many varying landscapes; the one presented before him now happened to be
the green hills and large pond where the rest of the Oshvails lived, relaxed,
swam, and slept--if indeed they slept at all.
Oshvail, in the form of any of the observed Oshvails, would usually step
through the translucent wall to speak with Aden one-on-one. The particular form Oshvail had chosen that
day happened to be short and slender, perhaps only four and a quarter feet
tall. Exactly like all the others, this
one had large, deep blue almond-shaped eyes and long pointy ears, its furred
textured skin shone mostly white except for random blue blotches surrounding
its body. Its mouth was a dark line
between thin lips, and its face, despite whichever physique it chose, always
managed to make Aden
feel comfortable and welcome.
Aden had grown accustomed to Oshvail’s amalgamated
mind, but every once in a while he would become lost in the overbearing truth
that the ones beyond the dome were somehow the same one that was standing directly
in front of him, and sometimes it frustrated him to try and comprehend their
simultaneous performance and activity; he wondered what it would be like to
swim and speak, to breathe and to hold a breath, all at the same time. It made his head ache. As if Oshvail noticed the tension behind Aden’s eyes, the
translucent portion of the dome became pearl again, blocking the land of the
Oshvails from his vision. This particular
Oshvail spoke with a tone, however subtle, that Aden couldn’t help but identify as masculine.
“You were losing yourself in your thoughts
again,” it said.
“You tend to do that to me,” replied Aden. In an attempt to change the subject, he bowed. “Oshvail.
I feel that I am finally ready.”
“Not yet.”
Oshvail the Oshvail sat cross-legged upon the pearl floor and placed its
hands gently upon its knees. “I have
provided you with the proper tools for strength, given you the necessary skills
and available knowledge, and you, in turn, have repeatedly proven your determination,
but you do not yet have the appropriate values.”
Aden
was thinking of something to say, to retort and provide proof of his... values.
But in the end he decided to remain
silent. He would do as bid and
respectfully listen. It was something
else he had gotten used to within the last three years with Oshvail.
“The experience you need is something you
must learn, but not something anyone can teach you. I believe you are ready in bodily
capabilities. But if I am to send you to
Agmora as one of my own, then it is my responsibility to ensure your competence
in both body and spirit. Now is
the time if ever there was one, Aden,
for you to let go of your Earthly pains.
They will not aid you in your future with me.” Oshvail paused. “Do you remember the first time you entered
this realm?”
Aden
recalled. It had been the cold gateway into
what Aden now
referred to openly as Oshvail’s Domain. And he remembered his first time walking
through it well.
#
Aden was
born and raised in the United States of America,
specifically in the southwest corner known regionally as Southern
California, and although it sometimes grew cooler than normal--eastern
tourists often scoffed at what the residents considered “cold”--not once had it
snowed in the area in which he resided, at least not during his years. But one day, it did; the snow fell heavily like
a windless blizzard, the atmosphere as mystifying as it was veiling, distorting
the world before him, the neighboring complexes gone, replaced with nothing but
cold white frost. Immediately, he ran
back into his apartment to grab his winter mountain clothes, rushing as if the surreal
phenomenon would vanish if he slugged too long.
But it remained, and so he leapt over the sunlit porch perimeter and
trudged into the thicket of glum frost.
Aden
marched through the winterland wilderness, which was populated by great pale trees
and numinous blue-spotted mushrooms. He
ended up traveling into a cold vacancy surrounded by forest where a singular, enormous
mushroom skyscraper stood unaccompanied, salient in its loneliness. There was a planked, round wooden door that
had either been built--or in some manner grown--into the stalk. Too curious to be afraid, Aden opened the door and entered into a dank
room. He was faced with what appeared to
be an extremely lengthy spiral staircase, ascending to such a height that he
could not see an end. Already, he was
feeling tired and weary from traveling through the snow, but his curiosity assisted
his endurance, and so Aden
made his way up the staircase.
His ascent alternated along a peculiar
spectrum of lighting: Some of his steps
were shrouded in darkness so void of light that he couldn’t see the steps in
front of him, while other areas had been illuminated with a glow where unmarked
sources of yellow light lit his path. Finally,
long after his calves and quadriceps burned and numbed, Aden managed to reach the top. Another wooden door awaited him on the higher
end of the mushroom tower, and although it was much like the door in the stalk,
this one was an elderly white. He almost
hesitated with this one, but with a strong will to continue forward, Aden opened it just as quickly
as the other. The pearl dome was then revealed
to him, and in the center stood a tall, hefty Oshvail who greeted him kindly
with a deep, jovial baritone as if congratulating Aden Walker on his ascent.
As ludicrous as he knew it should have
seemed, Aden
did, in fact, feel quite rewarded.
#
“Aden,”
said the short, slender Oshvail. “Do you
remember?”
Aden
returned from his memories. “Yes.”
“Your senses have changed since then. But tell me the truth: Have you found a way to relinquish yourself
of the mourning? Do you still blame as
you have?”
Unwilling to speak a lie to his mentor, Aden clenched his
fist. “I remember your warning well. And I’ve tried to forgive. But that’s a part of my life that will always
be. I will never forget. Forgiveness is impossible.”
Oshvail slightly tilted his head, ever so
subtly. “Though forgiveness is
important, do not misunderstand that your future is not centered on your
ability to forgive. It is, however, important for you to maintain self-control,
and if forgiving those who’ve harmed you somehow helps you reach that point...” Oshvail raised its brow. “This is the time for you to let go of your
past troubles. You must not waver. You must not let sorrow, anger, or regret
take you from your purpose at any time.
Those are weaknesses you cannot afford for the tasks ahead.”
Aden
held his posture. “I understand. But...”
“If you return to your previous
wretchedness, then you will not be allowed to return here. You’ll live your life on Earth with your
Earthly sorrows, for I have no place for them in my endeavors.”
Aden
inhaled and nodded nervously. The
creature had the right of it. “Sometimes
it’s difficult for me to sleep, I admit.
But if you were me, then--”
“I
also have no place for excuses. I know
your worth. And your hypothetical
proposal is not the nature of things. If
I were Aden Walker, I would be everything that you are, of hindrance and of
brilliance, and I would not be Oshvail the Oshvail.” Oshvail raised its hand palm-up. “You came during your time. You and I partook in the blood pact. Our lines are intertwined. You are Aden Walker, and I am Oshvail. There will be no regression. We drank of the blood.”
Aden
could still recall the taste. It was after
visiting Oshvail several times in the beginning that he came to understand the
nature of how the creature needed someone for a particular task, namely, to
seek the Granatium. Aden asked so many questions, and what he
found odd was that the creature actually answered most of them. The creature didn’t go into high detail, but
Aden knew enough about the situation regarding the Granatium--and was curious
enough--to make a pact with Oshvail, what Aden sometimes couldn’t help but
think of as terms of employment. The
terms were that Aden would travel wherever the
creature sent him in order to perform a given task, and in return, Oshvail
promised to provide the means to increase the chances that Aden had good health, keen senses, strong
mind, and most importantly, a purpose. Aden was given the choice
to refuse, but he didn’t, which was a component Oshvail proclaimed to be of the
utmost importance. In an act of loyalty
to each other, they partook in a ritual; Aden
cut himself across the right palm, just enough to let some blood drizzle into a
clay bowl from one of Oshvail’s many landscapes, and Oshvail did the same. Red blood mixed with blue, and Oshvail added
other ingredients--spices and soil, grass and water, roots of plants that Aden had never seen,
along with other such things--mashing and churning them all up to form a thin paste. Aden
drank one half, and Oshvail drank the other.
According to Oshvail, the ritual was enough to connect their fates...
for life.
Aden
didn’t feel any physical difference at the time, but he did become sacredly
committed, travelling each morning into Oshvail’s snow, spending the entirety
of each day performing whatever was commanded of him, to strengthen and to
heighten all kinds of attributes.
Oshvail provided the food, the necessary terrains, even the Oshvailian
bodies for practice in the physical martial arts.
Quickly Aden came to perceive Oshvail’s loneliness on
a deeper level. Aden thought the history of Oshvail was
beautiful, heartbreaking, hysterical, haunting, devilish, and tragic; each of
the people who became an Oshvail had a history of their own, all of them
disconnected from the realm they once knew.
Though not of such magnitude, Aden
believed he could share in the feeling of having lost a past existence. Perhaps loneliness and disconnection were
what drew the two of them together. Aden sometimes thought so.
After all,
the snowy invitation presented itself at a time when the chips of Aden’s personal life were
scattered all over the place. He was
willing to go all the way to Agmora if that’s what it took to attain a purpose. But in all honesty, Aden believed he would probably end up in a mediocre
position, just as statistics and previous experience had taught him he would. He didn’t look forward to majesty or splendor,
but just the idea of something new appealed in more ways than one. In either case, no matter which path he would
face, he had partaken in the blood pact, and he entered the snow every time it
beckoned him, no matter where it invited him; this time for instance, he entered
the Domain from his own restroom, pulling open the shower curtain to reveal the
chilling snowfall in place of the wall that should have been. This surreal nature was part of his new life,
and it was welcome.-------------------------------
Next Part: (to be updated upon availability)
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